


She'd of Loved You

by mrandmrhale2



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comforting Derek, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Sad Stiles, Stilinski Family Feels, a little bit of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 17:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrandmrhale2/pseuds/mrandmrhale2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the anniversary of the death of Mrs. Stilinski, and Stiles is having a harder time than usual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She'd of Loved You

Scott, Allison, Isaac, and Lydia all filed into Derek’s apartment, their chatter immediately filling the otherwise silent room. 

 

Derek came down the stairs just in time to see Scott and Isaac plop down on his couch and put up their feet.

 

“No, please,” he mumbled, “make yourself at home.”

 

“Derek, if you roll your eyes any harder they’ll disappear into your head,” Lydia commented as she sat on the arm of the chair that Allison now occupied.

 

He reached the base of the stairs and studied the teens with narrowed eyes. “Where’s Stiles?”

 

The previously rowdy group grew quiet and exchanged side glances. 

 

His suspicion grew, and he took an ominous step forward, “Where. Is. Stiles.”

 

Scott sighed, and ran a nervous hand through his hair. “He said not to tell you,” he mumbled. 

 

Derek’s blood began to boil. He heatedly stalked up to Scott, but before he could get a hold of him, Isaac jumped to his feet and put a hand to his chest.

 

“Take it easy, Derek. It’s not Scott’s fault.”

 

He pushed Isaac’s hand away with a huff, and glared at Scott. “If you know something, you better tell me,” he warned him, his voice a low growl.

 

“He kinda wants to be alone right now.”

 

He took a deep breath in, his nostrils flaring slightly. His worry for his new boyfriend was reaching extreme levels. If someone didn’t tell him soon, he-

 

“Jesus, Scott, just tell him. Quick, before smoke starts coming out his ears,” Allison said, gesturing to Derek’s red face.

 

Isaac glanced at Scott, who simply shrugged with a sigh. Isaac sat back down, and Scott leaned forward on his knees. “The anniversary of Stiles’ mom’s death is tomorrow. It’s hitting him harder than usual this year. He just wants to be alone.”

 

It was almost as if someone had knocked the wind out of him. How could he not have known? Stiles had been cold and distant this past week, and Derek hadn’t know what to make of it. He just assumed he was in one of his moods. He had no idea…

 

“I’m going over there.”

 

Scott grabbed Derek’s arm as he attempted to move towards the door. “I’m serious! Just give him time.” 

 

He jerked his arm out of Scott’s grip, and stormed out the door.

 

 

Derek arrived at the Stilinski household only minutes later. The Sherriff’s cruiser wasn’t in the drive, so he assumed that Mr. Stilinski was at the station. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket as he sauntered up to the house. 

 

All the lights were off, and the rooms’ silent, but the door was unlocked when Derek stepped inside. To most, the house would seem empty. But thanks to Derek’s werewolf senses he could hear ragged breathing and shuffling coming from the general direction of Stiles’ room. He could smell the salt of tears, and his chest ached when he realized that Stiles was crying.

 

Hesitantly, Derek made his way down the hall, until he reached Stiles’ door. He grimaced at the sniffling he heard coming from the other side. For a moment, he debated listening to Scott. Maybe he should just leave, and let Stiles mourn in peace. If it was what Stiles really wanted…

 

But Derek couldn’t do that. He couldn’t just ignore the fact that Stiles was in pain and go about his day. He wanted to help. He needed to know that he would be okay.

 

His mind made up, Derek rapped on the door lightly. All sound coming from the room ceased, and it was quiet for a moment.

 

“Dad,” Stiles’ voice was thick and raw, “is that you?” There was some shuffling, and then it sounded as if he were just on the other side of the door, “I told you to go to work; I’m fine.”

 

Derek sighed, “It’s not your dad, Stiles.”

 

“What are you doing here?” 

 

After turning the handle to find the door locked, he leaned against the wall and rest his head against it. “Just open the door.”

 

“I’m not really in the mood for this, Derek. Please, just go.”

 

“Is that what you really want?”

 

There was a hesitation, before Stiles sighed, and Derek heard the lock click. He entered the room swiftly, to see Stiles back was to him as he braced himself against the desk. He stood just inside the doorway, uncertain of how to go about this. He was never too good at comforting others.

 

“Stiles, I… I don’t know what to… why didn’t you tell me?” he approached Stiles slowly, stopping when he got a few feet away.

 

He straightened up, and rubbed his face before turning around. His eyes were rimmed with red, and despite his attempt to hide it, he could clearly see the tear tracks lining his cheeks. “What are you doing here, Derek?” 

 

“I thought you maybe wanted to talk or-”

 

“Well, I don’t,” he crossed his arms, and ducked his head.

 

“I just want to help.”

 

Stiles bit the inside of his cheek, and squeezed his eyes shut tight. A single tear rolled down his face, and he wiped it away furiously. Every tear that dared escape met the same fate. Before he knew it, the tears were streaming down his cheeks. He didn’t know when or who moved, but Stiles was in his arms and Derek was holding him too tight. 

 

Stiles’ hiccupy sobs were muffled against Derek’s shoulder, and he fisted his hands in his shirt, gripping him impossibly tighter. Soft, reassuring murmurs flowed from Derek’s lips as he brought a hand up to stroke Stiles’ hair. 

 

“I miss her so much,” Stile’s whispered, his voice thick and ragged.

 

“She’d be so proud of you, Stiles.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

Derek hesitated, his hand stilling on the back of Stiles’ neck. He leaned away, and tilted Stiles’ head so he could look him in the eyes. “She’s your mom. She’d be proud of you even if you were a drop out.”

 

He gave Derek a watery smile, “Even if I was dating a werewolf?”

 

He chuckled, “I hope so.”

 

Stiles’ searched his face for a moment, almost as if he were committing every one of his features to memory. “She would have loved you,” he whispered. 

 

Derek smiled, rubbing small circles behind Stiles’ ear with his thumb. “I think I’d of loved her too,” he paused, and struggled to get out his next sentence, “I mean, how could I not? I-I already love her son.”

 

Stiles’ eyes widened, before a genuine grin spread across his face. The first Derek had seen in at least a week. It was like watching the sun come out, and he couldn’t help return his smile. 

 

“I love you, too. And… thank you. For coming. I’m sorry I was be-”

 

Derek shushed him, “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. I just wanted to be here for you.”

 

Stiles nodded and bit his lip, his eyes flicking downward to Derek’s mouth. With a deep chuckle, he pulled Stiles in for a kiss. With every passing second and every brush of Stiles’ body against his, Derek knew that everything would be okay. As long as they were together, it would be okay.


End file.
